Just One Cup

• James Huggins, Grade 12, Pee Dee Academy
• Short Story
• 2001

Finalist in the '2001/2002 Schools Short Story Competition - Magic and Mystery Theme' competition

Tenrod leaned against the trunk of an old, half-rotted tree in a misty forest, breathing harshly. The last escape from the giant snake had been too close for comfort, even closer than his evasion of the wyvern. Calming his breath. Tenrod quietly set off again, south, toward castle towers barely visible in the mist. He held his staff tightly, knowing that it would be no defense against the creatures in this strange, misty forest, but unable to loosen his grip.
A small, distant wail caught his attention, stopping him in his tracks. He looked back for the source of the sound, but could see nothing through the mists. Another wails sounded from the same direction, closer but still far off. A burrower.
Abandoning quiet for speed, Tenrod broke into a run. He only had one hope now, he knew, assuming the Burrower was after him. If he didn’t reach the castle before the Burrower caught up, he would end up in the beast’s belly. After spending most of the day in this forest, Tenrod was tired, but he didn’t slow down.
The moat came into sight abruptly as the mists gave way. Tenrod signed with relief as the drawbridge began to lower, but the sound of the ground breaking open not far behind him cut that short. The burrower was right behind him. Ignoring exhaustion, Tenrod ran on.
He soon realized, though, that the drawbridge was too slow. It wouldn’t be all the way down before he reached it. Tenrod hesitated, but the breaking of the earth behind him decided for him.
As he reached the moat, Tenrod drive his staff into the ground, pushing with all his strength. He rose up into the air as the ground broke open beneath him, snapping teeth and shrieks accompanying his frightened yell.
Crashing into the lowering drawbridge knocked the breath out of Tenrod, but he held on as if his life depended on it, since it did. With a last burst of effort, he pulled himself over the edge, then rolled down its sloped length, grunting again when he stuck the floor of the entry hall, shielded slightly by the expensive rug.
Tenrod simply lay there for a moment, before he dragged himself to his feet. He trudged into the massive hallway before him. The chandeliers in the hall shone with a bright light, outlining a stooped figure. Radnan the Might, one of the world’s most powerful wizards, explorer of the unknown, learner of the arcane, and a surprisingly good cook. Radnan smiled. “Tenrod, it’s so good to see you! How have you been? Is you wife well?”
Tenrod answered all of Radnan’s questions, trying not to show him tiredness. “Good afternoon, Radnan. Sorry, I can’t stay. My wife wanted me to ask for a cup of sugar.”
Radnan frowned. “Again? Tenrod, that’s three times this month. I’m not a merchant. This is very inconvenient.”
Tenrod gave him a level look. “Inconvenient?” he asked, and shook his head, “You have no idea.”